Castlevania: Last one to Know
by Mackyo-Star
Summary: Count Dracula would benefit from paying closer attention to the unfolding events occuring within the castle… especially the ones involving his bride.


**Castlevania: Last One To Know**** Castlevania © Konami**

A crimson candle illuminated the round shadowed table, droplets of warm wax dribbling gradually over the polished oak edge. Highlighting the forced rivalry taking place between its two seated foes; the waning flame flickered, dancing erratically, as another generous contribution landed heavily against the table's vast gathering of gold.

"Do you have any… queens?" The hooded reaper exhaled wearily, unable to hide the tedium from his un-amused tone as he pressed his bony face to his fist. Count Dracula glanced down to his assembled selection, chewing on his lower lip as his fingers suspiciously shifted through the various suits in his hand. Narrowing his eyes with annoyance, Dracula reluctantly took hold of the requested card; plucking it out from the rest. Just as he was about to relinquish custody, setting the card face down against the table's smooth surface and sliding it slowly across. He suddenly paused, quietly considering, before looking slyly back up to his opponent.

"Oh, a queen you say?" The Count cunningly questioned, using his thumb to gently lift a corner of the concealed card, taking a playful peek at the grisly illustration displayed underneath. He was enjoying the escalating snarls of frustration emitting from his impatient competitor; deliberately provoking Death's dwindling patience with the leisurely pace… which was becoming more satisfying to observe by the second. Dracula couldn't help but cackle in response to his minion's misery- snatching the card away without warning as Death naively reached over to retrieve it, waving it teasingly in front of his servant's thwarted face as he tried to grab it back. Struggling to stand such absurdity, and unable to succumb to restraint, Death quickly seized hold of his Master's wrist; yanking the vampire sharply across the buckling table as he scrambled up onto his shoulders. With his bony arm wrapped around Dracula's neck, strangling him to comply, Death managed to eventually wrestle the card free from the Count's iron clutches, practically tearing it to pieces in the process. Swiftly releasing his choking Master, and snorting manically as the vampire's pale forehead slammed roughly against the table's wooden surface, Death grinned triumphantly, admiring his winning card. Staring down with confusion, the reaper moved the card further beneath the soft candlelight, highly suspicious of its unusual appearance compared to the others he held. On closer inspection, the so-called 'queen' was nowhere to be seen… this card was merely a decoy! It was nothing more than a crumpled coupon granting expired admittance to a discounted ferry ride across the castle canal- only valid when accompanied by a whip-wielding Belmont. Crushing the ticket irritably, and glaring down to his sniggering Master who was shrewdly rubbing at his reddened brow. Dracula's reply was delivered with false sympathy, his apology evidently fake. "Aw, would you look at that? So sorry, my friend... it appears that I was mistaken. Go fish?"

Sighing heavily, Death slithered back to his seat; mouthing muted obscenities as his withered fingers moved over towards the patterned deck. Adding another card to his depleted collection, his teeth began grinding together with resentment, anticipating his fourteenth defeat. Dracula just kept winning at these ridiculous card games, it was becoming embarrassing! And judging by the smug look plastered over the vampire's face, that obvious deceitful grin. Dracula had resorted to cheating. AGAIN!

"Might I suggest an alternative activity, my Lord. Something more mentally stimulating?" Death adamantly insisted, bored of the same monotonous losing routine and his Master's insufferable gloating. Dracula gave his associate a sideways glance, raising his eyebrow with interest.

"Such as?"

"Well…" Death thoughtfully considered, tossing his cards carelessly aside with an idle shrug; overlooking the clutter they created as they gradually floated down to the floor. His skeletal fingers then began to stroke at his chin, immersed in deep concentration. "I always favoured that game… you know, the one with the tiny tweezers." The musing reaper chuckled darkly, trying to remember the rules of the game in question as he slouched lazily back in his seat. Dracula's intrigued tone turned cynical, rolling his eyes as he sighed.

"Pfft, you mean that silly game where we attempt to remove the internal organs from a man without making him scream? No, I don't think so... Just the thought of it is making me hungry."

"Bah, spoilsport." Death muttered under his breath, pushing himself up from his slumped position as he glanced over towards the rear of the room.

"Ah, how about a quick round of Jacks then? We might as well take advantage of our unlimited supply of pieces-" The reaper suggested keenly, gesturing to the waving Jack O' Bones skeleton in the corner of the throne room as he obligingly ripped out a rib from his chest, drawing it back over his head to take aim. Dracula laughed, slouching slightly, clearly unimpressed by the comment.

"Well, we could, but those pesky pieces just end up flying everywhere- and we wouldn't want to put someone's eye out." The Count cautioned humorously, curling a finger through the length of his beard as his heavy boots came up to rest on top of the table, his chair lazily reclining back. Death exhaled wearily in accordance to his Master's ridiculous remark, slipping his hands within his substantial robe sleeves as he sulkily folded his arms. The reaper's baggy hood shadowed the look of disapproval etched across his frowning features; staring down to the scruffy soles of Dracula's shoes as the vampire eased them off from his feet.

"For the love of- DON'T TAKE THOSE OFF IN HERE!" Death gagged, recoiling away from the ungodly stench, frantically wafting the air with his hand.

Dracula grinned, purposely wriggling his clammy toes. "Come now, old boy. In your line of work, I'm sure you've dealt with far worse."

The grim reaper scowled. He may have been used to the scent of decay, the pungent aroma of the recent deceased, but the eye-bleeding odour oozing from Dracula's unsheathed feet was nearly enough to bring _him_ back from the dead! Trying his best to hide his disgust, strategically masking his mouth, an airborne rib abruptly ricocheted off of the table's burnished surface, mercifully distracting his attention. Turning his sights towards the favourable diversion, the jumping Jack O' Bones skeleton cheered at the additional attention, taking a gentle run-up as he launched another flying chunk of cartilage into the path of the seated reaper.

"Cease this foolishness!" Death warned, ducking as the revolving rib flew past his head, suddenly springing up from the table once contact was made. After knocking the blazing candle down onto an unsuspecting Dracula's lap, Death's glowing eye sockets followed the bouncing bones upwards; watching as they soared in slow motion, travelling towards the large decorative windows stretching out over the tall bordering wall. As Dracula's nostrils began to flare, suspiciously sniffing at the smoke-filled air, the enormous glass panels shattered simultaneously; fracturing into a million sharp shimmering shards. Bolting upright on impulse, Death swiftly summoned his scythe, snatching the silver staff as it dropped down to his hand. With a single sweep, the reaper propelled his rotating blade rapidly towards his preoccupied Master, barely missing their possessed panic-stricken Ouija table as it leapt up out of the way. Slicing through Dracula's tilted chair, the vampire shrieked, rolling backwards; frantically patting at his own burning crotch as he tumbled clumsily along with their abundance of prize money across the card littered carpet. With his Master safely out of range, the raining cascade showered down on top of the grim reaper, leaving him little time to react. Seizing the fleeing Ouija table, grabbing it by its scurrying legs, Death used it as a makeshift umbrella; shielding himself from the jagged segments of stained glass impaling into the furniture.

With the cool night breeze blowing briskly through the newly acquired cavity in the wall, the last piece of glass hit the floor, mildly contributing to the rest of the extensive destruction assembled around the reaper's feet. Quickly discarding the disfigured table, and brushing the flakes of sawdust from his broad skeletal shoulders, Death observed the immense carnage for himself, sarcasm present in his dry reply as he curiously glanced to his Master. "Perhaps we should stick with 'Go Fish,' my Lord... it seems the safer strategy." Death groaned, turning to scowl at the giddy Jack O' Bones skeleton now dancing his way through the door.

"Indeed." Dracula growled as he struggled to his feet, fanning away the swirls of smoke surging from the fresh hole in his singed leather pants. "Just wait until I get my hands on that blundering bone-bag. I'll snap his scrawny neck!"

"What in Heaven's name is going on up here?" Lisa, the Count's fiancée yelled furiously, only to be stunned to silence by the mass havoc that greeted her unexpected arrival as she pushed her way past the scarpering skeleton. As her apprehensive fingers left the brass handle on the throne room entry, the solid door slammed suddenly closed, catching the Count's surprised attention as he looked up to where she was stood.

"Darling!" The Count squealed excitedly, completely neglecting the chaotic exhibition behind him as he dashed devotedly towards his frowning fiancée's side.

"Vlad! What did you do? Just look at the state of this room!" Lisa shrieked, thrusting her palm against Dracula's delighted face, keeping him at bay at arms-length. Pointing towards the immeasurable devastation, to the shredded curtains wafting in the wind, she firmly voiced her concerns. Dracula turned back sceptically, surveying the wreckage for himself as he carefully peeled his compressed cheek away from Lisa's restricting hand.

"Oh, this? Don't worry yourself, my dear. The castle will clean all that crap up when we leave. In the meantime, why don't you join us for a game of cards? I'm sure Death won't mind dealing you in." Dracula asked keenly, ignoring his minion's reservations as he tried to intervene, dragging his colossal scythe across the carpet as he apprehensively advanced towards the couple.

"Erm, thank you for the offer, Vlad, but… I-" Lisa suddenly paused, feeling a wash of nausea erupt from her stomach as her hands reached up to her mouth. Quickly thinking up an excuse to retreat, she forced a smile, suppressing the urge to vomit over her prospective partner. "I-I just came to…collect a few things, yeah. I think I left them over there, somewhere. You don't mind if I check, do you?" She swallowed nervously, pointing towards the Count's elevated throne as she stumbled away from his reach.

"Oh?" The Count questioned with concern. "Of course not, my sweet… but don't I at least get a cuddle first?" Dracula pouted, saddened by Lisa's sudden withdraw as she waddled backwards hesitantly, leaving his empty arms outstretched. Once she was out of earshot, halfway to the throne, Dracula narrowed his eyes, surveying the scene with suspicion as he turned towards his approaching servant.

"Is it just me, or is my lovely Lisa looking a bit-"

"Large?" Death bluntly interrupted, gradually drifting beside his Master whilst raising his scythe to his shoulders.

Dracula nodded, placing his hands on his hips as he observed Lisa's unusually misshapen midriff. "Hmmm, a slight understatement, my friend."

Death focused his attention towards his Master's young mistress, watching as she collapsed wearily against the throne's bottom stairs. He looked back to his anxious Master, clearing his throat as he spoke. "Ahm, well… considering the circumstances, my Lord. This was bound to happen sooner or later."

"It's not that I find her any less attractive!" Vlad quickly stated, trying to justify himself as he leaned closer towards his associate, lowering his voice to a whisper and speaking behind his hand. "I just think that a woman should take a bit of pride in her appearance. Keep herself looking trim. All of these deep fried confectionaries she's been requesting recently, well… they're really not flattering her figure!"

"I wouldn't concern yourself, my Lord. I believe it's natural for human's to crave such eccentric cuisine in these cases. Besides, the extra bulk she's carrying around will soon fall off... Or should I say, fall out!" Death cackled manically, finding his Master's gormless expression utterly hilarious as he blinked blankly back in response.

"You think so?" Dracula asked dubiously, folding his arms over his chest as he looked longingly toward his beloved. "I hope you're right. The wedding is only a few days away, and judging by her current waistline… I doubt think she'll fit in the dress."

"Oh, I'd give her at least another three months." Death sarcastically stated, elbowing Dracula in the ribs. "If I were you, I'd probably postpone the ceremony 'til then."

"Wait three months? Are you MAD?" Dracula roared, startling Lisa as she glanced up to the sudden commotion, surprised by Vlad's unexpected outburst. Dracula blushed slightly, waving to her sheepishly as he casually turned from view. He then grabbed Death by the collar, yanking him nearer as he snarled in his face. "If she carries on eating at the rate she is doing, I'll have to find us a bigger castle to live in! How much larger is she likely to get?"

"I only specialise in taking lives, I know very little about the other end of the spectrum." Death groaned, wrenching Vlad's anxious fingers away from his throat, smoothing down his wrinkled robe.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dracula scowled, glancing back over his shoulder as Lisa struggled to her feet, only to slump back down in defeat. She certainly was looking a little green all of a sudden.

"My Lord, you may have left humanity behind a long time ago, but surely you recall what happens when certain _rituals_ are carried out in the bedroom?" Death openly mocked, his tone turning sarcastic as Dracula's confused brow creased in reply.

"My friend... I haven't the slightest idea of what you're suggesting." Dracula muttered, mulling over the comment, oblivious the obvious.

"Put it this way, does the term 'ankle biter' mean anything to you?" Death cackled cruelly, watching his Master's face for that spit second of comprehension, for the penny as it finally dropped. "It's the only place the little leech is going to be able to reach once it… pops out."

There was silence for a moment, until Vlad's bloodshot eyes began to widen, realization kicking it. "WHAT? You mean she's... PREGNANT?" Vlad spluttered, staring at his bloated beloved and suddenly feeling quite faint.

Death sighed, wiping the spray of regurgitated spittle off from his face, having unfortunately been in his Master's line of fire. "Isn't that evident, my Lord?"

"NO!" Dracula yelped, unconsciously reaching up to yank out fistfuls of long silver hair. "S-she can't be! I mean, I just thought she was FAT!"

"Hey, I can hear you, you know." Lisa glared, staring up angrily from the foot of the throne and striking fear into the dark heart of her soon-to-be husband.

"Lisa, sweetheart, when did this happen?" Dracula cried out fretfully across the room, staggering closer toward his ballooning betrothed, a bald patch beginning to appear on the left side of his scalp.

Lisa heaved herself up, pointing down to her swollen stomach. "You idiot, how could you not have noticed? I'm nearly the size of a house!"

Dracula was stunned, his gaping jaw practically on the floor. "I-I'm going be a father?" The Count panted, looking down to the heaps of hair wrapped around his twitching fingers, before returning his sight to his frightening future wife. It was all just too much to take in.

"Where's he going?" Lisa questioned, flopping back onto the stairs as the Count suddenly bolted, smashing his way through the solid wood door as he fled for his life down the hall.

"It appears that the Master is experiencing symptoms similar to that of a nervous breakdown." Death casually commented, floating closer towards the castle's new mistress and helping her up to her feet. "I'm sure he'll be fine once the shock has sunk in. Knowing the Master, he'll probably run around the castle several times screaming before finding temporary solace hiding the hollow of a wall for a week. But, all in all. I think he took the news quite well."

"Oh…" Lisa sighed, looking disappointedly towards the still swinging throne room door, half hanging off from its hinges. "Well, when he's finished having his hissy-fit, can you tell him to bring me back some frozen anchovy ice-cream?" Lisa smiled sweetly, happily arching her eyes. "For some reason, I've got the strangest craving for seafood!"

Death exhaled despairingly, shaking his head as he floated off down the winding castle corridors; following the echoing shrills of unquestionable panic surging past the lips of his mentally retarded Master.

"With parents like these two bringing it up... this kid is going to have some SERIOUS issues!"


End file.
